


Someday My Happy Arms Will Hold You

by Burning_Up_A_Sun



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Hit With A Clue-By-Four, M/M, Never agree to a favor ahead of time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-18
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2018-08-30 06:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8521576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Up_A_Sun/pseuds/Burning_Up_A_Sun
Summary: Harry says to Draco, "I owe you one." Why, Harry. Why?





	

**Author's Note:**

> This gift is for UStoryCollector. Merry Christmas, darling, and I hope you like this :D
> 
> A huge thank you to [Crowgirl](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Crowgirl) and [GeronimoandbeMAGnificent](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Geronimoandbemagnificent) for their awesome beta skills. 
> 
> The title comes from a Kern/Hammerstein song, All the Things You Are. [Listen here, please](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OjZo4X9zmLA) and swoon over a very young Frank Sinatra.

“If you just Avada Kedavra me, I promise not to tell anyone.” 

Harry whispered without lifting his head from his arms, folded on his metal desk. Immediately he regretted his decision to talk; the sound reverberated, and Harry whimpered pitifully. 

“For Salazar’s sake and mine, enough drama, Potter.” Draco closed their office door; Harry suspected it wasn’t really sticking and didn’t require four slams, even though Draco mumbled something that sounded like _sorrynotsorry._. 

“The department meeting starts in five. I’ll tell them you’re following up an anonymous lead on the Stonehenge case.” Draco placed the mug and a bottle of hangover potion with an echoing _thunk_ on the desk as close to Harry’s ear as he could.

“I made you tea, and here. It’s my last one.” Draco nudged the hangover potion closer to Harry’s elbow. “Drink this and try to be human by the time I return.”

“Did you make my tea wrong again?” Harry mumbled into his arms. He raised his head enough to crack open an eyelid and peer into the cup.

“I would never do such a thing. I made it with milk and three sugars just the way you like it.” Grinning, Draco turned to his well-ordered desk and pretended to search for his weekly-department meeting folder.

“You know I don’t take sugar, you knob.” Harry sighed and dropped his head onto his arms again, mewling with regret at the pain. He walked his fingers across the desk until he found the hangover potion.

Draco checked his pocket watch, grabbed the folder, and headed for the door. “You don’t take sugar because you’re not civilized. This is my thankless attempt to reform you. You’re welcome, by the way.”

Harry tilted his head just enough to see Draco through his barely-open eye. “Thanks, Malfoy. I really owe you one.”

Still smiling, Draco left for his meeting.

 

~*~

 

“When I said, _I owe you one_ , you _knew_ I meant I’d fill out the next set of arrest reports. Or, buy the next round at the Leaky. Not to be your pretend boyfriend. Not _here_.” Harry gestured to the front door at Malfoy Manor, where the two of them waited for someone to answer the door. “And really. _Not. This_.” 

Harry intended to wave his hand at his clothes, but they were caught up in the wide sleeves of his new robes. That Draco had insisted he needed. That Draco had insisted required the Malfoys’ personal tailor. That Draco had absolutely insisted on paying for.

“Ridiculous, Potter. If I’d let you dress yourself, you’d have shown up in school robes or worse. Muggle clothes.” Malfoy shuddered visibly at the crisis he’d averted as he reached for Harry’s poorly tied Hogwarts house tie.

Harry tried to push Draco’s hands away but only succeeded in tangling them together.

“Potter. Stop fidgeting, or I swear I’ll hex your dick.” Draco slapped Harry’s hands. “It’s bad enough that you chose your Gryffindor tie which is at least ten years old, but clearly, in the past ten years, you never learned how to tie it.”

Harry growled in frustration as Draco tightened the knot against the collar. “I’m perfectly capable of --my own--,” Harry said, his voice raspy from the pressure at his neck. He waved his arms, trying to free his hands from the generous cuffs so he could take over.

“There.” Draco stepped back and looked Harry up and down. “Now don’t touch it,” he threatened, pointing his wand at Harry.

Harry glared at Malfoy, who’d conjured a mirror and was busily checking his hair. With Draco absorbed in his own appearance, Harry chanced loosening the knot that was choking him. Faster than Harry would have thought possible, the point of Draco’s wand pressed against Harry’s Adam’s apple.

“Don’t.”

That was all Draco said. It was all he _had_ to say, because it was fucking frightening. _And possibly a little hot._ Harry gritted his teeth, aggravated with himself for thinking that way about Malfoy yet again. He hadn’t wanted to be Draco’s pretend boyfriend because that’s all it would ever be. The mornings when Harry walked into their office obnoxiously late and felt his mood brighten with Malfoy’s equally obnoxious snark. How he saved Malfoy a seat at crowded department meetings so they could mock, well, everyone. The nights at the pub, just the two of them arguing over what Harry’s favorite mixed drink was, with Malfoy insisting he knew better. Just like with the tea. 

All of those times--he’d blushed and charmed and pretended that he meant something to Draco. That maybe Draco felt some tiny spark, too. But this was a step too far.

Harry swallowed hard and raised his pointer finger. With steady pressure, he slowly pushed Draco’s wand away from his throat. “Why are you so bloody nervous? It’s just dinner.”

At the words _just dinner_ , Draco fumbled the wand, dropping it on the ground. He bent over (which gave Harry zero thoughts. At All.), retrieved it and jammed it in his sleeve. Draco’s eyes looked a bit too wide and anxious for dinner with the parents—even if the parents were Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. “It’s just the first—you’re the only one I’ve cared enough to—Where the hell is Binky?” Draco changed the subject and rang the Manor’s doorbell for the third time and waited for the House Elf to answer.

As if on cue, the magical intercom next to the door crackled to life. “Patiently waiting, please, because Binky’s magic is blinky.”

Harry swore the house elf sounded like she’d hit the cooking sherry. But if he had to live with Lucius, he’d probably drink more than wine.

“It should be just another moment.” Draco inhaled then exhaled slowly, which Harry suspected was to brace himself. “Remember. We’ve been dating for almost a year. We’re happy.”

Harry snorted.

“Shut it, Potter. We’re happy, and we are considering moving in together.” Draco shoved his hands deep into his robe’s pockets and avoided looking into Harry’s eyes.

Harry laughed at the idea of them living together. _Probably kill each other in the first quarter hour_. Harry’s laughter softened to a smile as he realized—they’d shared an office for over a year and finally got on well, moving around each other with practiced ease. And some days, when Draco plunked Harry’s morning tea on the desk, Harry’d even let himself imagine that they were at Grimmauld Place, Draco tousled and sleep-roughened, wearing only his affection for Harry.

“If Father or Mother asks anything and you’re not sure how to respond, defer to me and I’ll—”

Impulsively, Harry grasped Draco and kissed him. Too fast, over too soon. But he felt the anxiety drain out of Draco’s rigid shoulders and back, leaving him relaxed and pressed against Harry’s chest. Harry, who lost the brief skirmish over what it meant that Draco was snuggled in, wound his arms around Draco and held him.

“What was that for?” Draco asked, as if the air had gone from his lungs. His hair tickled Harry’s chin but Harry didn’t say anything for fear Draco would move.

“If they catch us kissing, it will definitely help your story,” Harry explained, hoping he didn’t sound as breathless as Malfoy did. “And we don’t want it to look like our first one, right?”

Draco righted himself and nodded, his face flushed. He quickly brushed a kiss over Harry’s cheek. Then they stood side by side, and when Binky opened the Manor’s heavy front door, Draco slid his hand into Harry’s.

Harry squeezed Draco’s hand. _Maybe this dinner wouldn’t be so bad after all._


End file.
